The sunrise was extraordinary as the pink-and-orange morning sky slowly stretched up and over the open desert. Quiet and desolate, in a beauty all its own.
Several miles outside of the larger urban sprawl, a modern adobe-styled house rested alone in a slight depression between two bluffs. The distant sound of a diesel engine broke the peaceful ambience of the morning. Rumbling as it gently accelerated over a long stretch of single-lane dirt road.
Almost an eighth of a mile from the house came the soft crunching from beneath three sets of shoes. A mother and her two children, walking in unison over a soft incline toward the road.
“Are you picking us up today?”
“Yep. We need to go to the nursery. I have some things coming in.”
The boy playfully skipped over a small hole has he walked. “Another tree?”
His mother smiled and nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
A young girl, a couple of years older than the boy, peered up. Her hand was still wrapped inside her mother’s. “Can we visit Daddy?”
“If we have time.”
“Why wouldn’t we have time?”
“It’s going to be long day, honey. We’ll see.”
Satisfied, the children continued walking. Short strides trying to keep up with their mother, while the yellow bus emerged from behind a group of white firs.
Reaching the road, they waited as the engine’s growl continued before abruptly beginning to slacken as it drew near, the giant vehicle downshifting and slowing until it managed to roll to a stop several feet in front of them.
The vertical door at the front of the bus folded inward to one side while both children hopped cheerfully aboard. The mother, watching them scamper up the steps, smiled at the driver, an older woman with dark shoulder-length hair. “Morning, Diana.”
The woman returned the smile with a slight look of weariness, while glancing back at the rowdy children. “Morning, Elizabeth. Care to come along?”
The mother laughed. “No, thanks!”
With a quick wink, the driver closed the door and moved her foot to the accelerator, leaving behind a faint dust cloud as they roared away.
A few minutes later, walking back toward her house, the woman, dressed in light blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, heard something behind her. Something subtler. She turned to find a dark SUV in the distance. Approaching, rapidly, leaving a much larger trail of dust in its wake.
She kept an eye on the vehicle as she walked back home. There were other houses on the same road. It didn’t mean—
The SUV then began to slow, until turning in to and beginning the ascent up her long driveway. Prompting the woman to stop and turn in curiosity.
As it neared, her eyes narrowed. Focusing on the windshield. Curiousness turned to uncertainty. And then … to unease.
With the morning sun behind the vehicle, she could make out people inside what looked like a government car. Approaching faster than normal.
It was then that her unease became fear. And then she turned and began running.
“What are we doing?”
Waterman continued accelerating. “I’ll tell you in a minute.” With hands wrapped tightly around the wheel, he dodged back and forth between potholes.
Behind him, Rachel grabbed the overhead handle. Glancing up through the window, she could see a small plane overhead.
The woman was now in a full sprint. Running for the house. Panicked when the vehicle sped past her, suddenly sliding to a stop over an open patch of gravel, sending a wave of pebbles scattering over the same walkway the woman was racing for.
Doors were flung open from the passenger side, and two men leaped from the SUV, running to intercept. They grabbed her as she began screaming.
“Whoa, whoa! Where do you think you’re going?”
“Let me go!” she cried out, trying to break free. “Let me go!”
“Shut up!” One man slapped her hard across the face, then grabbed her hands and growled, “I said be quiet!”
He hit the woman again, knocking her off her feet and onto her knees before the second man yanked her back up from her waist.
The first man grabbed her by the hair. “Who else is here?”
The woman sputtered.
“I said who else is here?” He raised his hand to strike again.
“No one.”
“Where’s your husband?”
She could taste blood in her mouth. “Gone. At work.”
“Kids?”
She winced as he yanked on her hair. “School.”
“Good. Do what we say, and you won’t get hurt … at least any more.”
“What do you want?” she cried, still struggling. “We don’t have anything!”
The man almost laughed, still clutching her hair in his fist. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly stopped as he looked over her shoulder.
Another car was approaching.
The assailant spun, pulling her toward him, and along with his partner scurried behind the SUV and squatted down. They peered through the car windows at the second vehicle as it slowed at the entrance of the driveway and came to a stop.
“Who is that?”
“I don’t know!” she cried.
Rachel leaned forward to get a better view out the windshield. “Oh my God, what’s happening?”
There was no reply from Waterman. Instead, he calmly put the Jeep into park and opened his door. Climbing out, he moved to the rear and opened the tailgate, then reached inside for his bag.
Rachel followed him out and suddenly realized that she and Waterman were directly in their path. “Uh, what if they try to get out?”
Waterman returned with an AR-15 in his hand, with two small bipod legs affixed to the bottom. He brought the rifle up and, resting it comfortably on the top of the Jeep, said, “No one’s coming out this way.”
She gasped and quickly retreated, lowering herself and ducking behind the rear of the vehicle. Watching nervously, before she heard something. She looked up in time to see the small plane tip its wing as it passed overhead, then changed direction, banking away.
Waterman followed her gaze up. “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.”
The two men watched from a distance as a man took his place behind the Jeep, rifle in hand—and pointed at them.
One of men banged on the SUV’s side window, causing the driver to lower it from the inside. “What the hell do we do now?”
They were the same three who destroyed the antique store in Kingman, and the driver had no intention of giving the man behind the Jeep a clear shot. He quickly scrambled over the center console, opening and pushing the passenger door out. “Get in the house!”
Through his scope, Waterman watched the men run for the front door, the last man dragging the woman behind them as a shield. Within seconds, all three disappeared inside and the door slammed shut.
Silence returned, and after several long seconds Waterman shook his head and looked down at his shirt pocket. Fishing out a stick of gum, he muttered, “They were safer outside,” and popped it in his mouth.